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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232353">The War Won</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisingShadows/pseuds/RisingShadows'>RisingShadows</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>1917 (Movie 2019)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Canonical Character Death, Gen, It's mostly hinted at, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Tom Blake is mostly just mentioned</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 03:02:29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>General Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>402</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25232353</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RisingShadows/pseuds/RisingShadows</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>I fought the war, but the war won.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Tom Blake &amp; William Schofield</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>10</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Collections:</b></td><td>2nd devons writing challenges</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>The War Won</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p> </p>

<p></p><blockquote>
  <p>
    <em> “I fought the war, but the war won.” </em>
  </p>
</blockquote><p>There is a boy dying in his arms. Laid out across his lap with blood dripping, pooling beneath him. There is nothing Will can do for the boy dying in his arms. </p>
<p>There is nothing Will has ever been able to do for the boys that have died in his arms. Splayed across his lap like toy soldiers, tossed aside and broken by this war. This war that tore at him, that broke him. </p>
<p>They were the same soldiers that stumbled through the mud with wide smiles and laughter. The same soldiers that told stories around the fire, that laughed and joked and hummed. That sang in the middle of the night when the shells were falling and they were all too afraid to sleep. Too afraid of what they might wake up to. Too afraid of whether they’d wake up at all. </p>
<p>There is always a boy dying. </p>
<p>
  <em> They are so young, all Will sees is boys. Toy soldiers. Boys with light in their eyes and wide smiles. Boys pale with blood loss. Pale and still in death.  </em>
</p>
<p>Blake had forced his way into Will’s life after he’d already seen what this war did to boys like him and Blake had refused to leave. Had refused to leave him to his silence. Had refused to allow him to slink in the shadows on the edge of the fire as the other men laughed and sang and shared stories of better times and occasionally, when they were quiet and sad and drawn, of home. Of wives, and mothers, and sisters. Rarely even of fathers and brothers. Some already lost, some left behind. </p>
<p>It isn’t a surprise, not really, when weeks later it is Tom that is dying in his arms. Tom whos blood soaks his hands and dries beneath his nails as he tries desperately to carry him. He doesn’t know where an aid post is. He needs to get this boy to an aid post and he knows already, deep down, that this boy will join all the others that have bled in his arms before. </p>
<p>Will doesn’t know why, doesn’t know if it’s him or them or the war. They never make it in time. Not to an aid post, not to a medic. Time slips between his fingers just as the blood does. </p>
<p>Tom stops breathing. </p>
<p>Will thinks he might too.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>This ones really short but I'm finally getting back into writing after a month of doing pretty much nothing so I count it as a win.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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